*******************

In the dimly lit infirmary, Yuvan lay in a state of wakeful contemplation, his mind replaying the echoes of his recent bout. Amid his musings, a gentle voice wafted through the air, drawing his attention like a fragile whisper.

"Oh, you're awake," the voice carried a soft surprise, and as Yuvan's gaze lifted, he found himself meeting the gaze of Yohan Reinhardt, a young man with striking blue eyes.

Caught slightly off guard, Yuvan's response carried a hint of brusqueness. "What brings you here?"

Yohan's reply was measured and calm. "To check on you. I am Yohan Reinhardt."

Yuvan's acknowledgement was curt. "I know."

The exchange continued, a subtle dance of words. Yohan's curiosity pushed him forward. "What should I call you?"

"Yuvan Shankar," came Yuvan's terse response.

A question followed, tinged with a touch of scepticism. "Is that your real name?"

Yuvan's answer held a thread of ambiguity. "For now."

A genuine laugh, a spontaneous burst of mirth, flowed from Yohan. "Haha!" he chuckled before extending a proposition. "Will you follow me?" He turned slightly, his eyes gesturing towards the room's exit.

Yuvan's compliance was swift, an unspoken desire to unravel the enigma of the composed figure who had so effortlessly bested him. Their footsteps carried them through the corridors, stepping out of the institutional embrace and towards a nearby hill. The landscape opened up, and as they walked, they navigated through a sea of fellow cadets. These comrades of training greeted Yohan with a blend of admiration in their salutations, while their gazes toward Yuvan remained cold, evoking a stark contrast that further shrouded Yohan in an air of enigma.

As Lucas and Jerome paid a visit to the infirmary— to check on Liebert— their minds couldn't help but be drawn to the unfolding scene before them.

"Where's the captain taking that mongrel?" Lucas inquired, his gaze following the pair as they departed.

Jerome speculated, his voice ponderous. "Perhaps the captain has intentions for him. He might be considering inviting him to join us. We all witnessed his remarkable abilities; he could be a valuable asset to our team."

Lucas seized Jerome's collar, his tone stern. "You're being naive, Jerome! After what that baseborn did to Liebert's arm, mere days before our inaugural mission, I won't allow this to pass. Regardless of the leader's intentions, we won't stand for it. Round up everyone; we need to intervene if this is Yohan's plan."

Jerome departed with haste, leaving Lucas to scowl at the backs of the figures ascending the hill with determination etched in their steps.

As they reached the midway point, Yuvan's gaze remained fixed on the young man leading the way. Observing Yohan's demeanour, and hearing his words, Yuvan found it difficult to reconcile this composed individual with the person who had bested him. The reactions of the cadets they encountered along the route, treating Yohan with a deference akin to a sovereign, only deepened Yuvan's curiosity. Unable to contain his intrigue, he posed a question. "Who are you?"

Yohan's response held a note of authority. "I'm the captain of unit thirteen," he revealed.

Yuvan's internal thoughts interjected. Since when does Abwehr assign cadets as unit captains?

Yohan countered Yuvan's unspoken thoughts. “I lead them not by appointment but by their voluntary allegiance.”

Great! Another fanatic leader is on the rise!

A soft smile graced Yohan’s lip. The summit of the hill was reached, the conversation flowing uninterrupted. "Ah, isn't the view quite something?" Yohan's gaze turned skyward, inhaling the crispness of the air deeply.

He directed the question to Yuvan, his attention now focused on the small town nestled below. "What do you perceive, Yuvan?" Yohan inquired, his gaze steady.

Yuvan's thoughts carried a dismissive tone. What's there to see? A town reduced to ruins!

Yohan responded to Yuvan's unspoken sentiment. Appearances can be misleading. That town wasn't just any ordinary town, nor was its destruction a simple act carried out by the Nazis. It was the aftermath of an extensive search undertaken by the Ahnenerbe—the Institute for Ancestral Research. Centuries ago, the very town had been the dwelling place of Abraham Von Worms, the student of the illustrious Kabbalistic mage, Abramelin. The Nazis sought the grimoire passed down from Abramelin to his disciple.

Yuvan's expression showed a mix of irritation and curiosity, prompting Yohan to continue his explanation. "You might dismiss this as mere jargon, but the fascination with such pseudo-science runs deep within the Nazi high command. From Führer's pursuit of 'death rays' to his closest minister reading Les Prophéties in bed, their fixation on delving into the occult is pervasive. They believe these studies can provide them an advantage in the midst of this great conflict."

Yuvan's interruption was abrupt and straightforward. "I didn't come out here to be subjected to your nonsense," he declared, his tone resolute. He continued, his gaze locked with Yohan's, "But I do have a question for you." He held a moment of pause before pressing on. "Why? Why did you spare me? Your companions must have been eager to teach me a lesson, to pummel me without restraint. Why did you step in to shield me from that? Surely, no one would have questioned your authority."

The reply came unhesitatingly, Yohan's words carrying an unexpected weight. "Because I desire you, Yuvan."

Caught off guard, Yuvan's response was a mere exclamation. "Huh!"

Yohan elaborated, his voice holding a calm assurance. "I was observing your duel with Liebert; it was an impressive bout. And you, Yuvan, displayed remarkable prowess—your speed, instinct, courage, and the way you wielded those old and rusty techniques were all truly astonishing. However, the fight hung in the balance; if Liebert's fist hadn't been injured, it might have been you on the receiving end."

Yuvan's acknowledgement was curt. "Maybe."

Laughter rang out. "Hahaha! You're honest, at least! Your fighting style reveals your willingness to embrace risks for the prospect of victory. You're intriguing, and your disposition aligns with my preferences. I extend an invitation, Yuvan—I want you to join us."

A rhetorical question followed. "What would happen if I said no?"

Yohan waited, “You Won’t?”

"Of course not. Why would I willingly align myself with a fanatic cult?"

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Yohan's deduction was on point. "I assume you find my words less than convincing."

Yuvan's affirmation was candid. "You're absolutely right."

A proposal emerged. "How about we settle this through combat?"

Yuvan's tone grew resolute. “That’s better; if I win, I will break your neck. How about it?”

An agreement was reached. "Agreed. And if I win?"

A shrug accompanied Yuvan's response. "You can do whatever you want with me; I won’t refuse!"

"Then let's not waste any more time," Yohan proposed.

Yuvan's challenge was met with enthusiasm. "Alright, what are you waiting for?"

*******************

The academy stood resolute amidst the vast expanse of desert and rugged canyons that encircled it. The sun-drenched landscape stretched out as far as the eye could see, an arid tapestry of sand and stone, its ancient secrets whispered by the wind. From the western vantage point of the academy, the imposing figure of the Sword Saint's statue remained visible, its noble form a sentinel against the backdrop of the cerulean sky. The sun, in its majestic ascent, bestowed upon the statue a radiant halo, casting an ethereal glow around its chiselled features.

Against this backdrop of natural splendour, the figures of the Celestial Hawks and the headmaster embarked on a patient exploration. They moved with purposeful steps, traversing the desert terrain with an air of diligence. Their presence was a juxtaposition of human determination and the untamed wildness of the surrounding landscape. The Celestial Hawks, their wings glinting like precious metal in the sunlight, scanned the environment with keen eyes, their movements graceful yet determined.

Beside them, the headmaster walked with a measured pace, his gaze alternating between the horizon and the revered statue that stood sentinel. His furrowed brows betrayed a deep contemplation, a reflection of the significance of their quest. Time seemed to stretch as they wandered through the desert, their footsteps leaving only fleeting imprints on the shifting sands.

Yet, despite their efforts and the passage of time, their search yielded no discoveries. The desert held its secrets close, revealing nothing to the diligent explorers. The Celestial Hawks' wings remained folded, and the headmaster's posture, while resolute, carried a tinge of disappointment. The enigma that had drawn them to this remote landscape remained elusive, concealed within the enigmatic embrace of the canyons and desert expanses.

"Che! What a waste of time and manpower," Darryl grumbled, his sentiment echoed in the hushed agreements of the other Celestial Hawk warriors.

Disregarding Darryl's frustration, the commander pressed forward with his thoughts, his voice cutting through the disheartened murmurs. "But the anomaly detected by the tower was undeniably suspicious. This location appears almost meticulously devoid of any potential Qi fluctuations. The absence of evidence is too pronounced to be a mere error."

Agustin interjected, his tone firm and analytical. "The scenario suggests deliberate cleansing – a thorough erasure of traces. It's an eerie kind of clean, far too meticulous for an ordinary individual. We cannot afford to dismiss this. We must conduct an exhaustive search of this area."

Brahma's agreement was swift and resolute. "Precisely. There's a methodical intent behind this emptiness."

Confusion and curiosity flickered among the Celestial Hawks, their shared glances reflecting the uncertainty of the situation.

Acharyasri, perhaps we should conclude for today as planned. You should attend the opening ceremony; your presence holds significance at the academy. My team and I will assume responsibility here, and if any substantial findings arise, we will promptly send a detailed report your way.

Are you confident about this?

Absolutely.

Then it's settled. I entrust this task to you. While it may ultimately amount to naught – perhaps the work of an enigmatic master testing esoteric arts or the capricious forces of nature – it remains imperative that you proceed with caution.

Agustin and his team bowed in unison; their respect evident. With a final nod from Acharyasri, the commander withdrew, departing for the academy and leaving the Celestial Hawks to their undertaking.

"Commander, do we truly have to continue this seemingly fruitless pursuit?" Darryl aired his exasperation.

"Fool! Do you not grasp the significance of this mission? Even if it seems like chasing shadows, remember that our clan's prestige is woven into fulfilling this task from the academy," Gwen admonished Ganapathy, her rebuke met with regretful nods from the others.

Heather remained silent, lamenting the missed opportunity to rebuke Darryl herself. Resolute, they pushed forward, resuming their meticulous search, each step carrying them deeper into the enigma that shrouded the landscape.

Back at the academy, Inside Yuvan and Toby’s room.

Time crawled by as Toby wrestled with his thoughts, searching for a way to extricate himself from his precarious situation. Yuvan's departure with the instructor had left Toby alone with his anxious contemplations. He acknowledged Yuvan's astute nature – a far cry from the impulsive and arrogant individuals he'd encountered. Those cafeteria words echoed in his mind, a glimmer of hope amidst the gloom.

Toby recognized that if he could offer Yuvan something of value, a path to reconciliation might emerge. Yet, the contents of his pockets and the corridors of his mind yielded no solutions. His predicament seemed insurmountable, and desperation gnawed at him.

Recollections of his father's advice resurfaced, a reminder of the guidance he'd received before setting foot in the academy. The council was clear: align with strength, but prioritize intelligence and competence. Toby had initially contemplated pledging his allegiance to Henry Tudor, heir of the formidable Tudor clan, pending confirmation during the upcoming opening ceremony. Regret now gnawed at him; he could have potentially navigated the situation with Henry's backing had he acted earlier. Alas, that avenue was closed, as rumours of Yuvan's prowess now circled the academy, effectively shielding him from any threats.

Toby's thoughts navigated the treacherous terrain of uncertainty, a labyrinth with no clear path. While details about Yuvan remained elusive, Toby felt the pull of limited choices. Amidst his calculations, a thread of possibility emerged, faint but present. A risky proposition that dangled on the thread of luck. The notion of a blood pact, an ancient and potent bond, crept into his consideration. It was a decision fraught with uncertainty, yet Toby felt an unwavering resolve settle within him.

"Yes, I've made up my mind," Toby declared, his stance firm, his heart braced for the outcome. As the anticipation hung in the air, he awaited Yuvan's return, prepared to lay his fate on the line in the pursuit of a solution.

Despite the expansive coverage of the first tower, the academy harnessed only a fraction of its expanse, reserving a mere one-tenth for its institutional purposes. The remaining territory lay veiled beneath the cloak of dense forest, an untamed realm inhabited by wild beasts and the secrets of nature's wilderness. Following his departure from the headmaster's office, Yuvan embarked on a leisurely stroll through the labyrinthine nooks of the academy's grounds.

As his gaze lingered upon the gateway that marked the threshold to the second year's domain, Yuvan found himself immersed in contemplation. It was at this juncture that a guard, a sentinel of the academy's perimeter, approached him with a proposition. "Why not put your skills to the test?" the guard suggested, his tone carrying an air of intrigue. "Should you possess the ability to unseal the second gate, you might well find yourself ascending directly into the ranks of the third year."

Intrigued by the prospect, Yuvan mulled over the challenge, his thoughts intertwining with the echo of the guard's words. The gateway beckoned, a tantalizing threshold to uncharted territories and new possibilities, promising an accelerated journey through the annals of the academy.

“So if I can open the first gate, can I join the second year?” Yuvan inquired.

"Unfortunately, the first and second years are grouped together, leaving no alternative. Given that many of your peers hail from esteemed backgrounds and have benefited from superior training from the outset, opening the first gate is within reach for many; it merely requires exerting a pressure of one hundred kilos. Yet, the challenge changes drastically when it comes to the second gate—an endeavour that only a rare genius among you can achieve. My intuition tells me that you might be such an individual. Why not put it to the test? By doing so, you could potentially save yourself two years of your academic journey," the guard urged.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm content with my current position," Yuvan replied before turning away from the gate and making his way back to his room to meet up with Toby.

"He didn't take the bait, huh?" Another guard emerged, a smile playing on his lips.

"No, just a waste of time," the guard responded, shaking his head. "It's been a while since we encountered such a gullible one. Watching him get surprised by the mana in the gate was quite amusing. Kids these days are clever, even more so than we were at their age."

Did you know that the boy you were trying to fool was the one targeted by the Asura a few days ago?

Really?

There's even talk that he single-handedly defeated a second-stage master.

No way!!

It's just a rumour making rounds, and it gained even more traction after he took down Levi Friedmann, despite having nothing but a chopstick. The blow to Levi's carotid was so strong that he was out cold for thirty minutes. People are speculating that he's a prodigy in the making. What do you think? You were up close with him.

I didn't sense anything extraordinary about him; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He felt rather ordinary, which is why I tried to trick him.

They say adept masters can conceal their abilities and come across as entirely unremarkable. Maybe he's been trained to hide his strength, or perhaps the attack left him weakened. Either way, we'll find out during the induction which class he'll be placed in.

Indeed, the truth will come to light soon. By the way, what happened to the mastermind behind the attack?

The boy's clan and the Celestial Hawks are still trying to shift blame onto the Nagas, but the latter has presented enough evidence implicating the Silver Fang clan's great elder. They claim he orchestrated the attack to use the boy's death as a pretext for a coup. The great elder is on the run, and everyone is on the hunt for him; the stakes are high. The Nagas stand to lose a lot if any other clan captures him alive. It's a manhunt for 'The Jackal,' the defector who fled to the demonic sect. Nobody knows where he's hiding.

Amid the secrecy of Geoffrey's hidden sanctuary,

The communication crystal emitted a sharp, resonating buzz. Pale and visibly affected by the curse that clung to him, Geoffrey steeled himself against the pain and answered the crystal's call—a call he had been anticipating, a call from his master.

"Forgive me, sire; my attention wavered, and I allowed my guard to falter," Geoffrey's voice held a tinge of humility as he bowed deeply before the imposing figure that manifested within the crystal.

"Enough with your explanations! Your purpose to me remains. Consider yourself fortunate," the imposing man responded sternly. "Did you carry out the task?"

"Yes, master, as per your prior instructions, everything has been executed. They will find no traces," Geoffrey assured.

"Hmm." A moment of unspoken understanding passed between the two, a recognition of the weight of their actions.

Lord, there's an urgent matter I need assistance with. Geoffrey pressed, his voice reflecting urgency and respect.

"Speak."

"I find myself burdened by a soul curse—an affliction that requires cleansing," Geoffrey explained urgently.

"By whose hand?"

"The boy's."

"The boy? And yet he lives. How did he manage to curse you and survive? How did he even obtain such a forbidden curse?"

"I am uncertain of the means by which the boy acquired this curse, my Lord. However, I am convinced that the individual currently within the academy is an imposter, likely planted by the Celestial Hawks."

"Hmm! Very well," the authoritative voice broke the silence. "I shall provide you with a remedy to purge the curse. In addition, I will dispatch our operatives to delve into this matter. However, we must avoid drawing unnecessary attention to the academy in our pursuit. I will personally investigate this situation further. When your presence is required, rest assured, I will summon you."

"I am at your service, my Lord. I extend my gratitude for your assistance," Geoffrey acknowledged with a final bow, severing the connection of the communication crystal.